Practice Makes Perfect
by hpgirl4ever
Summary: The night of the Yule Ball Neville went with Ginny, and Blaise went alone. So how did they end up leaving together? And just what does Seamus have to do with it all?


Neville would be lying if he said he wasn't just a bit nervous about the night. While he felt fairly comfortable with his dancing after having practiced night after night for hours on end, the realization that he'd be dancing in front of people simply terrified him.

"Neville, are you ready?"

Neville glanced over at Ginny, absentmindedly noting the thinly veiled frustration in the redhead's voice as he offered an apologetic smile. "Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking."

Ginny nodded, taking his proffered arm as they began their descent down the staircase, "I hope it's nothing too serious." she said, "This is supposed to be fun! Oh, and thank you for inviting me, I'd never have been able to come if you hadn't!"

Neville merely nodded. He realized that the only reason Ginny had said yes was because no one else was likely to ask her. On the other hand, the only reason he'd asked her was that it was unlikely anyone else would have said yes.

"C'mon Neville" Ginny urged, picking up her pace a bit and fairly dragging Neville in her hurry to get to the Great Hall, "the contestants are going to make their entrances soon!"

The brunette complied, adjusting his pace accordingly as they quickly entered through the great oak doors, both pausing for a moment to take in the sheer beauty of the place. Neville hardly recognized the room as the same place they ate their meals. The decorators had done a wonderful job and it seemed everyone who entered, even the Slytherin's appreciated it.

"Oh! I see Lavender over there." Ginny said, pointing somewhere towards the side doors. "I have to see what she has to say about the contestants before they arrive. I'll be right back." she said, releasing Neville's arm as she scurried away.

The Gryffindor blinked, eyes staring blankly after the redheaded girl as she vanished within the flowing sea of gowns and dress robes.

After a moment Neville began to shuffle awkwardly in place, looking around for a bit as he began to feel horribly stranded. He took comfort in knowing that if he felt awkward, he could only imagine how Harry felt. He'd have been sick with anxiety if he'd been in the other boy's position and he felt a moment of pity for his friend as the contestants began to line up, preparing for their entrance.

He watched the tournament's participants descend the staircase, each looking radiant if not a tad nervous as they paraded before everyone down the center of the room to begin their dance. Neville smiled sympathetically at Harry as their eyes briefly met, and couldn't help wondering at how drastically Hermione seemed to change while dancing, rather well he might add, with Krum.

He clapped with the others once the dance had ended, the spectators quickly losing interest with watching as the sound of talking quickly filled the room and everyone began to disperse into their various social groups.

His eyes scanned the hall for his date, spotting no signs of the youngest Weasley as he made his way over towards the punch bowl, throat going a bit dry in the quickly heating room as couples began to fill the dance floor.

As he poured himself some punch, a combination of what he thought to be pumpkin juice and various fruits, he decided to take the elusive route, standing off to the side of the tables as he quietly observed the crowd.

It wasn't as though he was trying to be antisocial; it was more of the fact that he didn't feel comfortable socializing with any of the couples, seeing as though his own date had quite promptly abandoned him. Perhaps he should have stayed in his room after all. . .

Debating the pros and cons of going back, he hardly noticed when a person approached him with quiet footsteps, the owner's deep voice startling him when he spoke.

"Lost in thought Longbottom? I'd have imagined that to be quite a difficult task for you."

Neville frowned at the insult, looking up into dark eyes that belonged to none other than Blaise Zabini. Great, just what he needed. The Slytherin may not have been on level with Malfoy, but compared to his fellow housemates he was among the worst and his company certainly wasn't welcomed at the moment.

"May I help you?" Neville asked, attempting for the politeness his Gran had always stressed he use but finding it a bit harder than usual to produce.

Blaise merely smirked, an amused twinkle in his eyes that both wearied and intrigued the Gryffindor. "I'm sure you could" he said, taking a drink from his own cup as he glanced at Neville over its rim. "Perhaps you could start by telling Finnigan that if he's going to spike the punch, try for something a little stronger than Firewhisky and Veritaserum."

Neville blinked, looking down at his own glass before turning towards the punch bowl, noticing Seamus standing inordinately close and appearing to slip a glass vile in his robe's pocket that was very likely the aforementioned truth potion.  
>"How'd you know what it was?" Neville asked, genuinely curious as he wondered if he'd already had too much seeing as he couldn't taste it in the first place.<p>

Blaise smirked, the same mirthful light dancing in dark eyes as he looked sideways at the brunette. "Who do you think gave him the potion? It's not as though any of you Gryffindorks but Granger could brew it properly, Finnigan might have killed us all had he tried."

Neville reddened at the insult before a thought struck him, "If you knew there was Veritaserum in it, why'd you drink it?"

The Slytherin scoffed, "Like I'd actually drink it after he put the potion in, alcohol yes, Veritaserum no . . . but, even if I did, unlike you I have nothing to hide."

Neville spluttered, "What are you talking about, I'm not hiding anything?"

"One would think so" Blaise drawled, eyeing the younger teen up and down making Neville unconsciously pull his robes closer. "No, no one would suspect Neville Longbottom of all people to have some deep 'dark' secret. You're more innocent than a Hufflepuff. But you, as I said before, have a secret, and I know it." he said with a wink.

Neville raised an eyebrow inquiringly, portraying a sense of confidence he didn't quite feel as Blaise continued to look at him knowingly. It was unnerving really. "Yeah, and what's that?"

The faintest of grins touched the Slytherin's lips as he took a sip of his drink, the warmth filling him for a second before he said simply, "You're gay, nothing to be ashamed of."

Neville blinked, wondering if he'd heard right as he stared at the Slytherin incredulously, baffled by how Blaise Zabini of all people could know something about him so . . . personal. "Excuse me?" was all he managed to squeak out, still attempting for an air of politeness.

"You heard me." Zabini smirked, "Surprised? Don't worry, I don't make a habit of staring at you in class, but when your eyes are constantly straying towards me, it's a bit hard not to notice."

Neville flushed, the heat rushing to his cheeks as he desperately hoped Blaise thought it was just the alcohol.

Blaise chuckled, something that sounded like an honest laugh instead of the taunting amusement he was used to. "You know, you're cute when you blush."

Neville stared down at his cup, wondering just how much he'd had. Half a glass couldn't possibly be enough to be affecting his hearing this much.

"You may be hopeless at potions, but you're not hopeless in general. Not too many people see that."

"Oh, and you do?" he challenged, setting his glass on the ground as he decided that he'd had quite enough.

Blaise shrugged elegantly, "There's not much else to do in Herbology. Besides, you've got a nice ass."

Brown eyes widened to comical proportions as Neville resisted the urge to do something so childish as to pinch himself. Then there was that laugh again, something that, if Neville were to be honest with himself, sounded rather pleasant, something he wouldn't mind getting used to. . .

The Slytherin turned to face him, dark eyes staring intently into the brunette's as he spoke, "Look Longbottom, the way I see it, you've got two options. You can either forget about all this and in the morning tell yourself that we were both drunk, or even go so far as to say you dreamed it all, _or_ you could be honest with yourself and admit what you already know, that you like me, and, inexplicably, I think I've developed, _feelings_" he said the word with disdain, "for you as well. So, you can either leave now, and try and find your date, though I doubt the Weaslette's bothered to stick around, or you can come with me, and we can thoroughly . . . explore this."

Neville gulped, knowing which one he should logically go with, and realizing which option he'd much rather pick.

"Well?" Blaise asked, arching a sculpted eyebrow as he awaited a response.

Neville met his eyes for a brief moment, not quite ready to decipher the swirl of emotions he found in the surprisingly unmasked face before he glanced back out towards the dance floor.

He wasn't quite sure if it was the punch, his mood coming into the Ball, the way Blaise was looking at him and what he'd said, or possibly a combination of all four, but whatever it was caused the Gryffindor's next words, "Alright then . . . let's go."

If Blaise was at all surprised by his answer he didn't show it, a small smirk instead gracing his lips as he boldly took Neville's hand, the brunette looking around frantically only to realize that no one was looking their way, or even glancing in their direction. He idly wondered if the Slytherin had somehow put up a charm.

"Great choice." Blaise said, leading them along the edge of the room until they exited through a pair of side doors and into the deserted corridor.

With a small laugh and feeling more daring than ever he quipped, "Don't make me regret it."

Blaise grinned, liking this new side of the Gryffindor he was seeing as he startled the younger teen, pushing him gently against the wall as he leaned in close, breath tickling the shell of his ear deliciously. "Trust me; I'll make it worth your while."

Neville flushed, red blossoming up to his ears and down his neck as he met dark eyes, any response he could have squeaked out cut off by a pair of soft yet firm lips against his, the Slytherin's hands resting comfortably on his waist as he gently guided the kiss, Neville's hands finally coming to rest on broad shoulders.

When they broke for air Neville thought his face was even redder if that were at all possible, his heart struggling to return to normal as he glanced shyly at the teen that had just given him his first kiss. Blaise smirked, pleased at is handiwork as he took in the flushed Gryffindor before him.

"Not bad" he murmured, a wicked grin gracing his features as mirth danced in his eyes. "But of course, practice makes perfect."

_AN: Written for Flutter of Angel Wings' A Very Slashy Valentine Competition! I hope you all liked this and I hope you all have a happy Valentine's Day! _

_Reviews are Love! =D_


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